


Someday

by Ribby



Category: X-Men
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribby/pseuds/Ribby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someday, Logan will come out of that corner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jou](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=jou).



> Originally written for the [InsaneJournal Porn Battle](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/porn_battle/5443.html). The prompt was Logan/Remy, standing in the corner. Again, for [**jou**](http://jou.livejournal.com/), who understands--and draws me beautiful pictures to boot. *grin*

Like any good hunter, Wolverine follows his prey for a few days first, observing routines, patterns, regular and irregular actions. So he knows exactly when Gambit's room will be empty, and creeps in, silently closing the door behind him.

He's scoped out the room as well, and knows there's a deep patch of shadow right in one corner, deep and thick enough to hide him from even the Cajun's keen eyes.

And there he waits.

Right on time, the door clicks open, and Gambit enters, sweaty and mussed from training. Wolverine takes a deep quiet breath, enjoying the scents of honest sweat and the faint musk Remy always trails, a hint of spice.

A long, bone-cracking stretch, and Remy begins to strip down. First the coat, which he hangs neatly on a hook. Then the headband, flung casually to the floor, followed by a vigorous shake of his head, fluffing out his sweat-damp and flattened hair. The boots are eased off with an almost inaudible groan, and set near a chair.

Finally, the spandex is peeled off, slowly exposing muscular shoulders and back, narrowing down to a trim waist and tight ass, and long, long legs--and Wolverine wonders, not for the first time, how those legs would feel wrapped around him. When the bodysuit puddles at his feet, a heap of crimson and black, Remy kicks it away, and indulges in another long stretch, lifting and twisting, then bending from the waist to press his nose to his knees, arms wrapped around his calves.

Damn, but the kid is flexible. That makes Logan's ideas even *more* interesting.

Remy slowly rolls up out of the stretch, coming standing, feet a bit apart. A long breath, and his hands begin to rub his face, then his neck, then his shoulders, massaging and stroking. Down his chest, rubbing at the muscles here and there.

Then the touch changes... becomes caresses. Long-fingered hands circle copper-coin nipples, causing them to tighten further. A small moan follows the movement, Remy's lips parting only slightly. Logan makes mental notes of all of this.

Remy pinches and pulls at his nipples until they're red, then skates his hands down his sides, raking lightly with his nails. He runs light fingers over the crease where thigh meets hip, teasing himself (and Logan), and then finally, wraps his hand around his hard, dripping cock.

Long, slow strokes have Remy panting--and Logan can see the head shining with moisture. His mouth waters involuntarily as he imagines what Remy tastes like. Remy's strokes speed up, plunging down and then coming up to twist lightly around the head. His hips thrust, pressing his cock deeper into his fist. Logan barely suppresses a moan--all he can think is how that would feel.

His other hand makes its way to his mouth, sucking and lapping at two fingers. Logan can only hope--but yes, that slick hand slides down Remy's side, around his hip, and two fingers disappear. Remy's moan makes it abundantly clear where those two fingers are, as does the movement of his hips--forward into his fist, back against his fingers.

Logan's damn glad he can restrain himself--what he really wants to do, right now, is tackle the Cajun and replace those fingers with his cock. But he's still not sure. So he breathes deeply, and continues to watch.

Remy's strokes speed up even further, and then the kid freezes, throws his head back, and arches with a muffled, guttural cry of "Logan!" He comes, pulsing over his fist onto his flat stomach, again and again, until one last stroke milks him dry. He subsides, sinking gracefully down onto his knees.

And just when Logan thinks he might get out of this sane, Remy moves his come-soaked hand to his mouth--and licks his hand and fingers clean, daintily, like a cat.

Remy speaks, voice weary. "Someday, Logan, you'll come out of that corner."

What the... Logan's too startled to say anything but, "Yeah, kid, someday."

The twisted half-smile on Remy's face says it all, and he turns his back to let Logan escape.

Someday, Logan thinks as he slips out the door, might come sooner than either of them knows.


End file.
